Pieces
by Ironi Numair
Summary: Despite everything, Data is declared property and removed from the Enterprise. Years later, Picard is ordered to test run one of Maddox's prototypes, and begins to see shades of a friend long thought lost. "Measure of a Man" AU.
1. Prototype

Pieces

* * *

"Alright, Ten, where is it?"

The android tilted his head in confusion. He looked beyond his creator to the large wooden desk in the middle of the office where sat an opened cylindrical case, its contents lying beside it. A book, a case of medals, a deck of cards. Certainly nothing of import. What was his creator talking about?

"Where is what?"

Commander Bruce Maddox sighed in frustration. He grabbed the blue case from his desk and shook it under the android's long nose. "This is not yours! You had no right to look through my personal items."

"I never opened it," the tenth prototype explained truthfully. He thought that Nine had returned everything to its proper place but clearly he was in error. When he had opted to take Maddox's ire for the broken safe he had not been prepared for theft. But Nine's interest in that strange crystalline base had been absolute, and Ten had not watched him replace everything into the safe…

"Why is it always you, Ten?" Maddox said, leaning back against his desk, "The others don't give me half as many problems as you do, but this is beyond anything you've done before. Unnecessary damage of property, theft, and deceit. You haven't been shutting down at night, have you?"

The prototype shifted his gaze to the floor, like a child. "I do not like being turned off…"

A loud snort of derision came from the commander's chair. A Starfleet admiral who came to check up on the progress of the prototypes often, though Ten had yet to hear his name. For the longest time, he had thought the man's name was 'Sir.'

"Commander," the admiral began, "the behavior of this android is not inspiring much confidence in me, especially if it can so easily fool your staff…"

"Ten is the most recent addition to the prototypes and as such is the most advanced mentally," Maddox grit through his teeth, "And it was agreed upon that the androids need to be able to _think_ if they were to work on starships, not to merely obey."

"But not to fool us because they've been ordered to do something they _don't like_!"

"Ten is unique in its behavior, sir, and it can be easily remedied. A simple mind wipe stunts the behavioral growth without damage to learned data…"

"No," Ten's soft voice penetrated the small room.

The admiral's eyes narrowed and Maddox turned to his creation in surprise.

The android continued. "I do not want to lose what I am. Please, no."

"And now refusal, Commander? What next, they'll go on strike?"

Maddox turned his back on his creation and faced the admiral, "I assure you, sir, Ten is unique in its faults. I'll oversee its renewed behavioral protocols myself and…"

"But, Father…!" Ten cried.

Maddox stiffened, almost feeling the admiral's blue eyes burning into him in anger.

"What, exactly, have you been telling it, Commander?"

"Nothing, sir," Maddox whispered, hands clenched into fists, "but when I do find out who's been corrupting it, I'll have them out on their ass."

"Good." The admiral rose from the chair and straightened his shirt. "I want a trial run of your androids soon, Maddox, and if I continue to see these kinds of issues, I'll have to put someone else in charge of the project, understand? And I want this android completely wiped, I don't care if it has to learn everything from the ground up again."

"Yes sir."

Nodding, the admiral moved to the door of the office. He paused beside Ten, looking down his nose at the android, "And for god's sake, Maddox, make the next batch taller, and at least a _little_ attractive. There's no reason they have to look like that old one."

It wasn't until the door slid shut after the admiral that Maddox turned to face his creation.

"Why did you call me that?" His voice was quiet, almost soft, but Ten knew he was very upset. He hoped he hadn't offended his father in some way.

"You created my brothers and I…"

"_Brothers_?"

"…And you have guided our development to function in this world. Is that not what a parent does?"

"Who the _hell_ told you these things?" Maddox hissed, advancing on the prototype who took a step back.

"No one. We observed the situation and reached this conclusion based on our data. Was that wrong?"

Maddox felt something heavy drop into his stomach. _We?_ "All of you agreed to this conclusion? You all think of yourselves as brothers?" _Please, no…all that work…_

The tenth prototype observed him quietly a moment. His father was upset about something, but he could not comprehend what. The admiral was an obvious source of his ire, but he had left. Furthermore, his creator was asking questions to which the answer was obvious. He'd been taught that these were rhetorical questions and he need not answer them, so he instead spoke of his own sense of worry, if he could have such a thing.

"I do not wish to have my memories removed, Father…"

Maddox snapped. "Don't call me that! I am not your father, you do not have a father, or brothers! You are postulating kinship where none can exist! You're an android, you are _not alive_! Do you understand?"

"But…"

"No! Do you want to destroy everything I've worked for? Do you want to be permanently shut down? That's what will happen if you continue these behavioral patterns. This is for your own good, Ten, I _don't_ want to see you, _any_ of you, dismantled!" He sighed, calming himself, and continued, his voice quiet again, "Report to the lab, Ten, for a memory wipe, that's an order."

Ten opened his mouth as though to speak, but instead turned and left the office. When he was gone Maddox returned to his chair and sat, his face in his hands. How could things have gone so wrong?

They only got worse when he received a call from the lab that the tenth prototype never showed up. The security team located him where the androids were stored, crouched in his cubicle behind a barricade formed by the other nine models, intent on defending their "little brother" from perceived harm.

Maddox retrieved a small black box from a locked drawer of his desk, a device meant to render them all immobile in case of emergencies, and left the office.

This would set him back _months_.

* * *

AN: Another AU idea that shouldn't run too long. For those reading "The Way is Up," I have not abandoned it, just getting over a small block, so to speak.

Thank you for reading and, as always, ConCrit is welcomed.


	2. Assignment

Jean-Luc Picard had been in a foul mood since he received orders from Starfleet that he was to participate in the trial run of Maddox's new androids. The name alone left a bad taste in his mouth and conjured memories he did not wish to visit…

The scientist's triumphant smile as he left the hearing, Data's subdued farewell, and his First Officer's inability to do anything but blame himself on the matter. Riker had not taken Starfleet's orders any better than Picard. And that was it, wasn't it? This android would represent their ultimate failure. Picard had failed to protect his officer…from one of their own.

He had tried so hard to resist, he'd brought the matter forward to any who would listen, about the injustice of it all, but he had been blocked in every avenue. In the end, the best he could do was inquire on the experiment and try to get a message through to Data. Both were met with the order to, for lack of a better phrase, "butt out." Data was no longer a member of his crew and therefore anything he was involved in was not his business. And _property_ didn't need to receive messages, did it?

Picard had to admit defeat. The pain had dulled over the next two years, but the new orders had torn them afresh. For all the good in mankind he saw, it was a sad fact it still seemed to enjoy taking that which was different and new and tearing it apart, and, sadly, Data had fit all too well in that category.

When he received word that the android had been transported to the _Enterprise_, he ordered it to be sent to his ready room. Picard's curiosity would not be denied, and he wanted to see what level of risk this new android could bring his crew. It wasn't a thought that would have occurred to him had not Starfleet sent him a specific frequency to use on it should it prove violent or unruly. Really, if Maddox's creations were so prone to misbehavior, why were they being tested now? And why on _his ship_?

The door chimed and Picard called the visitor in. The android stepped into his ready room and stood at attention before his desk. Looking at the prototype, Picard's mood changed from foul to furious.

How _dare_ Maddox!

The android was the spitting image of Data, from the yellow eyes, to the long nose, to the immaculately brushed back hair. The only difference was the blue uniform of a science officer that had no rank.

"Android prototype number ten, reporting for duty, Sir."

Even the voice was the same. Did Maddox truly think Data a thing that could be easily replaced with a mere physical duplicate? Hardly. Inspecting it closely, Picard saw none of the expressiveness that Data had emulated, no life behind the oddly colored eyes.

The android's head tilted, mistaking the captain's close scrutiny. "I apologize if my appearance is odd to you, sir. It was decided we should not look _too_ human."

That confused Picard. "And why not?" he asked softly.

"In the case that we malfunction and wander off, we will not blend in with the populace for easy retrieval."

_In case we run away_, Picard's mind interpreted. No, this wasn't like slavery at all, he thought caustically with a sad chuckle.

The android's head tilted the opposite direction. "Have I said something amusing?"

"No, not really…just what is your name?"

The android's eyebrows shot upwards; the first reaction it had manifested in Picard's presence. "I do not have a name, Captain. I am android prototype number ten."

"That's all well and good, but I'm not going to go around calling you that, am I?"

"If you will forgive my asking, why is that?"

"Among humans, it is often rude to refer to someone by what they are, rather than name or title." Picard could not help but smile a little. There was a ground of familiarity here, possibly a desire to learn and know.

"I am not human," the android said firmly.

The smile vanished. "Indeed," Picard ground out, angered that he had let himself think this android could be anything like Data.

"But," it continued, sensing it had erred, "Commander Maddox called me Ten. I will respond to such, Captain."

"Very well, Ten." Captain Picard leaned back in his chair, suddenly tired. He wanted to finish this quickly. "And just what did Commander Maddox program you to do?"

"Anything, sir. I am programmed for any necessary task aboard a starship, be it security, engineering, genetics, geological…"

"Yes, yes," Picard cut it off. He should have known, Data had graduated from Starfleet Academy, earning his rank and learning his specialties, but Maddox's androids most likely just had the necessary data downloaded into them. He paused and watched as Ten, staring intently at his fish tank, began leaning towards it as though to get a better look.

"Your fish are different than Maddox's," Ten whispered, almost to itself.

"Ten," Picard said softly, catching its attention, "You will be shown to your quarters, and after you have settled in you will report to sickbay."

"Forgive me, sir, why sickbay? I am not human and do not require a doctor when I malfunction and…"

"Ten, you are now a member of my crew regardless your temporary status, and all crewmembers report to sickbay. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"And after you are cleared by Doctor Crusher, you will report to Chief Engineer LaForge for duty." Geordi wouldn't like it, but he was shorthanded at the moment and the efficiency of the ship took precedence over his feelings, or the captain's.

"Yes sir." Ten hesitated, as though unsure if it was permitted to speak, and then went ahead, "If I may, I am… glad that I was selected for the _Enterprise_, sir. I know my progenitor served under you, and I wondered on what his life may have been like."

"You know of Data?" Picard asked in astonishment.

"We were modeled after him, and many of his more unique programs were integrated into us. He was…alive, sir."

Picard smiled sadly, "Believe me, no one knew that better than I. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." Ten turned toward the door that slid open.

"Ten," Picard called, unable not to ask the question burning in his mind since Ten had entered the ready room.

The android paused in the doorway, brows lifted in question. "Sir?"

Picard leaned forward, hands clasped before him, and softly said, "Tell me, what ever happened to Data?"

"I apologize, I was not programmed with that information."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't have been. Thank you, you may go."

* * *

Ten stepped into his assigned quarters and looked about in as close to amazement as he supposed he would ever get. He glanced over his shoulder at his guide.

"All this space is mine?"

The ensign peered into his room, confused. It was one of lower-ranking bays for single crewmembers and was quite small when compared to the family or high-ranking dwellings she'd seen. A single room with a bed, a replicator, an admittedly large closet, and hygienic facilities, and the android was acting as though he'd been brought to the captain's quarters!

She went with the safe answer of "Yes."

"And the door shuts? I will have privacy?"

"Yes, it even locks if you want, so nobody can come in without your permission."

The android managed a slight twitch of his lips into a smile. He'd never had privacy before, his small cubicle had always been open, facing across from Nine's, and all he and the others ever did was stand in them, there was no room to sit. Not that it ever bothered them, they never tired, but Ten had grown bored. He taught Nine a series of gesture games he'd learned from the computer and the two would spend the hours they were not in training playing those games. Eight had finally peeked over to see what they were doing, and things had progressed quickly from there.

His creator had not been happy when he entered the storage bay to find his androids wandering about, eyes shut, and calling out "Marco" while Four skittered among them with a devious "Polo!"

Oh well, not that he'd see his quarters often. His instructions from Maddox were, since he did not require rest as humans did, to work all shifts. Ten did not need quarters at all, really. He turned back to the ensign.

"Thank you. Would you be so kind as to show me to sickbay?"

The ensign stared at him in confusion. "Already? Don't you need to unpack? Where are your things, anyway?"

"I have no possessions to unpack, and I should begin duty as soon as possible."

"If that's what you want…" she trailed off, unsure what to call him; he had no rank she could see, only the symbol sewn onto his uniform where a communicator would be placed. She didn't recognize what it meant and had no interest in asking, she just wanted to get back to her own duties. "Come on, then."

Ten followed after the ensign, quickly glancing behind him as the doors to the quarters, _his_ quarters, slid shut.


End file.
